The Pledge
by fugacior
Summary: They tried to stay even though there's a chance that they wouldn't get their happy ending. JeanSasha, AU.
1. Part I

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine  
You make me happy when skies are grey  
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you  
So, please, don't take my sunshine away_

—Johnny Cash (You Are My Sunshine)

* * *

**The Pledge; Part I**

******Shingeki No Kyojin © Isayama Hajime**

**Warning: AU, possibly OOC, excessive (failed) romance**

* * *

He sighed as he viewed back his old album.

That pang of guilt creeped back into his chest again. He knew it wasn't the time to be melodramatic—he needed to get over all the pain in order to live peacefully. He still had years to live, so he should be grateful about it. Who knows—his lifeline might has had a few months, days, even hours left.

But he didn't care, as long as he has someone by his side.

* * *

**1.**

It came from a silly game of spin the bottle.

They all gathered for a party at Jean's house. Anyone at his house but him went out and he was all alone, so he decided to celebrate by throwing crazy fun at his place. He invited all of his friends to come over. Fortunately there were booze too, so he managed to get it out the fridge and gave them some. He himself had a couple bottles of beer, and because of this he blurted out the first game for everyone there of the night inbetween the chaotic riot.

"Okay, guys, you better fucking listen up!" he shouted throughout the madness around him. "We're gonna have a game of spin the bottle at the living room! Anyone interested, then get your ass here and we'll get started!"

The people who were joining at the game were he, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Ymir, Christa, Bertholdt, Reiner, Sasha, Connie, and Annie (actually Annie didn't want to join the game, but she was sent there by force thanks to Reiner and Bertholdt). They sat together and formed a circle—boys and girls, at interval—and as the game host, Jean cleared—more like coughing out—his throat while steadying his body so he wouldn't stumble.

"Alright, bitches, you know the rules (_hic_)!" he yelped inbetween his hiccups, "the lucky person who gets to spin the bottle (_hic_) has the chance to kiss the person (_hic_) which the bottle aims. And by the way there are (_hic_) rules for the kiss: 10 (_hic_) seconds minimum, and if it lasted less (_hic_) than that, the lucky couple (_hic_) get to do Seven Minutes (_hic_) in Heaven—at my old bathroom! But, because (_hic_) I happen to have a (_hic_) heart of gold, it goes for (_hic_) three minutes. Any ques-(_hic_)-tions?"

To which he didn't expect, Eren raised his hand. The boy scowled while his face was all red, "Oi, in that case, it's not just a game of spin the bottle, you idiot, it's a fucking crossover game!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever (_hic_), you little shit," the beige-haired growled, "you can call it (_hic_) Spin the Seven Heaven, or Bottle (_hic_) Spin in Minutes, or... oh, fuck it, (_hic_) I don't know."

After a long drunken game of rock-paper-scissors, the first lucky person to spin the bottle was...

.

.

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Connie.

"No shit," the bald guy scratched the back of his head. "I'm definitely getting one of these girls here, just you wait!"

He spinned the bottle without any hesitation. The Jägermeister made a fast circular motion for a few seconds, until around two to three seconds later the movement went slow. The guys hoped that the bottle wouldn't aim at them, while the girls prepared themselves warily. It already went past Reiner... Annie... Bertholdt... Sasha... Armin... and the front end of the bottle reached Mikasa—

"HELL YES!" Connie exclaimed.

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.

.

.

.

—but the bottle ended its force when it pointed at _Eren_.

Everyone taunted at the result while Eren yelped, "WHAT THE FUCK?! How could this happen, there's no way I'm kissing a _dude_! Are you fucking out of your mind?!"

"Rules are rules, Jaeger, you gotta go with it," Reiner said, as he leaned his arm on Annie's shoulder but she shrugged it off of her. "Come on, it's just ten seconds—or would you rather have a three minute moment with him?"

Eren clicked his tongue upsetly. He forced himself to move closer to Connie reluctantly as the crowd chanted 'Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!', and the spinner yelled at them to 'shut the fuck up' but everyone didn't seem to listen to his words. Connie leaned closer to him, and he looked him in the eye, telling the brunette under his breath, "On the count of three, okay?"

"Okay."

They closed their eyes as they moved their faces forward. Connie counted slowly in a low voice.

"One, two, th—"

Before he could finish counting, Eren already pulled his head as he crashed his lips onto his. People cheered high and low, the reactions of some of the players were almost as priceless as the kiss itself—Jean laughed hysterically at them, he rolled on the floor laughing as he pointed at them while holding his abdomen because it was so funny it hurt his stomach; Armin's blue eyes went wide, the orbs almost made his head looked bigger—wait, were those tears at the rear end of his eyes?; and Bertholdt's mouth was agape, his jaw dropped so low Reiner needed extra force to push it back. Ymir was the one who monitored how long the kiss went.

"Ten... nine... eight... seven... six..."

Both Eren and Connie hated the kiss. Especially for the shorter guy, since Eren's mouth smelled like alcohol all over despite having himself a few shots. Eren swore to himself he would never kiss a guy in his life after the incident. They tried to make their kisses feel better as if they were kissing girls but their lips weren't even moving and Eren's teeth almost bit Connie's tongue.

"Five... four... three... two..."

One second left and it will be over.

"O—"

Sadly, they immediately decided to call it quit. Their lips parted as they tried to catch their breaths while wiping off their lips in disgust. Ymir wasn't even finished saying 'one', so both of them should do something in Jean's old bathroom for three minutes. "Okay, losers, get your ass up," Jean sneered at them, to which Connie replied with his middle finger. Then he turned the Marco, who didn't join the game and was still sober all along. "Hey, Marco! Bring these gays to the unused toilet, would ya? Upstairs!"

The freckled guy offered his hands at the first couple, and then they went up through the stairs at the lobby. As they walked, Eren and Connie cursed at Jean for making their lives miserable because of the stupid game. The game continued as Jean spoke—it was more likely to be said that his words faltered even though his hiccups were decreased, "Ooookay, well, the next (_hic_) spinner would be, uh... what was it? Oh, the one who sat at the right (_hic_) of the last spinner! You better get ready!"

No one looked so worried and they all stared at Jean weirdly. He was bewildered at their gazes, as he asked, "Come on, you guys! Aren't any of you have the (_hic_) turn to do the lucky spin?"

"Uh, no, Jean, _you _are the one who will do the spin this time," Armin replied in a calmly manner. He was one of the people who didn't get drunk. "Didn't you notice the empty space at your left?"

He looked at his left side, and the place who was once belonged to Connie had been used by Ymir since he left. He muttered to himself, almost silently.

"Goddamnit."

He massaged his wrists as he could hear the loud crack when he twisted his neck to both sides of his head. "Bring it on, suckers." It was the last thing he said before he prayed and made a spin. It went on circling in a state point fast for sixteen seconds, until it began to slow down and started looking for its second victim.

Its speed started to decrease as it went past Christa... himself... Ymir... Reiner... and it almost stopped when it pointed at Annie. Jean's heart went beating so fast, he kept praying that he wouldn't have to be the second male to have a kiss with another male. Annie got herself prepared as she put out her moisturizing lip butter and applied a pinch to her lips.

... but, suddenly, the bottle was _still_ _moving _a little, and the front end was aiming for Bertholdt—

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Jean grabbed his hair and screamed in terror, while Bertholdt closed his eyes and pulling out his cheeks, terrified. The crowd mocked at them, while the rest gulped their guts as they nervously stared at poor Bertholdt who was about to have his very first gay kiss. This time Reiner was the one who was unable to control himself for not laughing. Bert smacked the side of the blond man's arm, yelling at him in a very worried tone, "You're not helping at all, Reiner! What should I do?!"

Finally, the bottle stopped.

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.

.

.

.

It aimed right in the middle of him and Sasha.

For a second, Jean stopped worrying and he started to kneel as he praised God for not having him to kiss a guy. A gladly sigh escaped from Bertholdt's lips, while the crowd went 'awwww' in exasperation. Sasha, who happened to drool herself and her mind flew nowhere far from food as she murmured to herself that she was hungry, began to notice the position of the bottle. She cleaned off the saliva from the side of her chin using the back of her hand and asked everyone at the circle, "Uh... who's turn is it actually... to kiss... who was it just now?"

Nobody answered. The whole house was silenced after the question. Jean rubbed his chin— impersonating an analyzer's gesture but he somehow did it comically—then concluded, "Why don't we just determine it with a (_hic_) coin flip, eh? The lucky person whose coin side shows (_hic_) up doesn't have to kiss me."

He rummaged through his pocket and found a silver coin. Bertholdt went for heads while Sasha picked tails. The audience of the game creeped closer to have a better view, as they split themselves into two groups, shouting 'heads' and 'tails' to one another. Meanwhile, Bertholdt and Sasha were communicating through their eyes, the conversation would probably meant as 'hang on if you weren't lucky enough for this'. Before making his throw, Jean hoped that he would get Sasha since he wouldn't want to end himself up suffering the same dreadful fate as Eren and Connie.

He flicked the coin and the crowd immediately stopped shouting.

.

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It dropped straight into Jean's palm as he slapped it so he didn't have to know the result just yet. He shushed at his surroundings and waited for a long minute of silence. One of the clustered people asked him to immediately announce which side was it, to which Jean told the person to shut their mouth and to wait for him patiently. And then, he opened his hand and gasped, revealing a side of the coin.

"Heads," he said to himself in a husky voice. Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he stood up and shrieked, "IT'S HEADS!"

The side of the crowd who rooted for Bertholdt to lose was very much disappointed. Reiner's expression was crestfallen, since he was one of the people who hoped that his tall fellow would get his first gay kiss. Sasha slumped her body at Armin, while Bertholdt was so happy, he went speechless and his body was shaking so hard. Jean himself was quite amused, but he didn't forget to thank the Lord for rescuing his dignity.

He pulled the perplexed brown haired girl's arm to his embrace, which made Sasha's heart jumped a little. He gently whispered to her as he tried to stare at her even though his gaze went blurry.

"I love you."

Before Sasha could say a word, he silenced her immediately with his lips. It was rough and warm, but lustful. The girl could feel the fuzzy heat and the stingy feeling in her mouth, as she was struggling inbetween the colliding movements of Jean's tongue with hers. He tighten his embrace as their kiss went more intimate. Sasha could feel Jean's fingers running through her hair, and somehow it made her feel a little bit comfortable.

"... three... two... one!"

Time was up, as Ymir stated, but the kiss wasn't even over yet. Both of them didn't back off immediately. Even though so, the crowd cheered louder as the couple continued, and the other players were pretty much surprised at the sight in front of them. Eren and Connie, who just finished their three minute game, happened to see the next round of the game that was still going. Their eyes bulged out, followed with their shouts of dissatisfaction, calling Jean as a 'sly wolf' and a 'cheating son of a bitch'.

They finally separated from each other five seconds later. Jean panted heavily as he rested his head at Sasha's shoulder. Sasha didn't speak a single word after that, her face was beet red as she covered her mouth with her hands. The cheers didn't stop even after the kiss, and the game continued.

The day concluded so far with these series of events: the pairs of the game after Sasha and Jean were Ymir and Mikasa, Bertholdt and Annie, Reiner and Christa, and Armin and Annie, who happened to get a second chance on being kissed—the first and the last couple in the order were admitted for a three minute trap at the dark old bathroom; everyone had a pretty serious hangover, especially Jean who threw up several times at his place with Marco at his company to take care of him; and despite having the craziest time of her life, Sasha couldn't get over the kiss she had with Jean for a long, long time.

* * *

Youth.

He pondered how can he regained those days back to him. The times when he was young were one of the prime period of his life. He once ever asked the Lord to have his old memories to be replayed again, he didn't care about the consequences. He wanted to go back—not because he regretted why it happened—he simply just missed the greatest things that went so fast as time flew.

There were thoughts about how he refused to grow up. Growing old is obligatory, but growing up needs more or less time than that. If it were up to him, he wanted to stay at the days when he was at his teenage years forever.

Especially at this moment, after years went by without any warning. He wished to have it all back and not letting it go. But, by then, it was all gone and it stayed forever at his memories.

* * *

**2.**

More than a week had been passed after the party, but the topic wasn't even far from it.

At recess, they all joked and laughed as they recalled the blasting celebration of youthful freedom. So far, Jean's party was the loudest and the most insane that ever occurred in their lives. They had never been so crazy, as each of them impersonating one and another in a foolish manner like they did back at the mad euphoria.

"Oh, my God, I swear you were drinking that much!"

"Jeez, aren't you the one who told me to stick the D to your A—what does that even mean?!"

"I don't know, how can I remember if I were drunk?"

"Holy shit, I just discovered I had a hickey... Did we happen to make out, somehow?"

"Wait, I didn't say that! I happened to hear someone said that, not me!"

The uproars were almost unstoppable, and it got louder and louder everytime. Even Reiner, out of all people, decided to declare the grand momentum of the chaos—nominating three best kisses of the party game, one of them which included Jean and Sasha's. Meanwhile, a certain beige-haired guy weren't interested to continue reliving the blabs of the funny moments. He walked away past them to get some fresh air.

He didn't notice a pair of brown eyes captured the sight of him leaving.

* * *

Jean pursed his lips as he gazed the blue horizon at the rooftop.

The image of the party was kind of vague from the pieces of his memory. He didn't exactly remember everything he said or did, but he remembered one thing clearly. It was stuck onto his mind ever since. He didn't really want to have it as something to keep in mind, but...

... why?

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.

.

_I love you._

That was what he said, to the girl whom he kissed at the spin the bottle game. He also recalled the sensations of it—warm but lustful, as he would rather describe it. He had to admit that he enjoyed it too. Maybe that's why he weren't able to just leave the matter away from his head. What was odd for him was his words.

Why did he even say that? What kind of force that drove him to do so? What was the possible reason behind his actions?

Still he didn't want to think anyway about it just yet.

"Hey."

A voice called him from behind. He turned to see the figure who was standing not far from him. It was someone he noticed, which explained why he arched his eyebrows and scoffed at the person before going back to his position. Sasha, the girl who often people encounter with the brightest expression, only smiled.

"Mind of I join you?"

He didn't answer her, though. She decided to approach and just sit beside him. The boy with the golden orbs didn't shift away when she did so, nor he cared so much about her presence. He let out a sigh, as he crossed his legs. She glanced at him, and then she broke off the silence between them for awhile.

"Can I ask you something, if you don't mind?"

"Sure."

There were a long pause before the question came out.

"Why... did you say that? Those words..."

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.

.

_Yeah, Jean, what were you thinking when you said that to her?_

He couldn't find the answer to it. His mind wandered elsewhere, but he was still trying to look for the reason why. It was the least thing he expected to come out of her mouth.

She continued, "I don't know, Jean... Maybe it's just me, or maybe because you were under the influence, but I... I guess I've been overthinking about it, uh..."

He saw how she went blushing, just before she diverted her face away from him. Seeing her reaction, he came to a notice about what was actually going on, as he realized his mistake. He covered his mouth to prevent a gasp escaping from his lips.

_Damn it, Kirschtein! What have you done?!_

"I... I, uh..."

"And the kiss, too, ironically," she didn't just stop right there, as she fiddled her locks with her fingers. "I have to admit that it was... sensuous. I didn't hate it—in fact, it was the best one I've ever had, so..."

_Say something or you'll end up breaking yourself and her apart!_

"... a-and I've been kind of having this, this strange feeling. It makes my heartbeat go rapid, and I just don't know why... All of the sudden, I have never felt such joyous feeling, more than just how I feel towards potatoes and bread..."

_JUST SAY IT OUT LOUD, GODDAMNIT!_

"Sasha, I'm sorry."

The girl stopped talking the second after he blurted. A sense of embarrassment creeped right through her shoulders. She wanted to take back her words, but it was all too late. She gave him a judging look of disbelief, while his expression stayed the same.

"What do you mean by that, Jean...?" the brunette asked carefully. "You didn't really mean it when you said it, did you?"

Not a word of agreement nor objection was said.

She sighed heavily. "I guess it was just some drunken bullshit after all. It was me who took this matter seriously. How stupid..."

Sasha stood and slowly stepped away. She could feel her face went hot; either it was because of how much pain and shame she had to swallow at that time, or because of her warm tears streaming down through her cheeks. Jean tried to stop her, but he couldn't even reached for her. He already gave her the signal of dejection, but...

_Is this the time to profess?_

"SASHA, WAIT!"

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But he was too far behind to catch her, as she already left the rooftop.

_Shit!_

He decided it wasn't the time to regret—he immediately ran as quickly as possible. He went down the stairs and picked up the pace but he hadn't seen her anywhere. He pushed away people who were getting on his way, calling her name. He finally stopped when he saw the sign of his class, then he opened the door and sought himself in.

"Sasha, where are you?!"

Everyone was shocked when they saw his worried face, moreover after he mentioned a certain big eater fellow of his. They searched for the girl, who just happened to lay her head down at a desk in the back left corner of the class. Mina, who sat at the right desk from where she was, shook her body as she called out in a low voice, "Jean's looking for you, Sasha! Wake up!"

Hearing his name, she finally rose from her position. It could be seen that she silently cried, from her puffy cheeks and her bloodshot eyes. The others's gaze went straight to her and Jean, who approached her with a very concerned face.

"Look, Sasha, I want to explain," he started, ignoring the numb feeling in his tongue. "I... I didn't mean to... make you think like that."

She didn't reply his words, as he went on, "I wanted to tell you that... that—oh, fuck it, I'm going to spit it out—look, I was asking you to forgive me... because I said those words at such bad timing, Sasha."

Her eyes widened. The crowd gasped.

"I shouldn't have said it to you in a condition like that. It wasn't your fault all—it was mine. But I think I finally figured out the right moment to do it."

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

Three steps ahead and he was already in front of her. She felt it again—her heartbeat went rapid, that joyous sentiment filled her body—no, this time, she was afraid, happy, nervous, and preparing herself for either a breakdown or a celebration of the time of her life; all at the same time. Both of their faces were as bright as the burning fire, but they didn't care anymore.

He added one step closer to her, grabbing her hand. His grasp was so tight, it made her heart thumped harder. He bit his lip as he tried to say it again out loud. He had his guts, and the time was the proof of what he had been thinking about what he should do all this time to make it up to her.

Everyone waited until his next move.

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"I... I think I'm in love with you, Sasha."

The whole class immediately applauded and cheered, but the couple ignored them. Without a warning, he leaned forward to her. Their noses almost touched each others, until—

"WHAT IS WITH ALL THE RUCKUS HERE, YOU BRATS?!"

A thundery voice suddenly broke the dramatic moment. At the door, Mr. Keith Shadis—their homeroom teacher—folded his arms in front of the class after he heard a loud noise coming from the classroom two doors next to the teacher's lounge. Recess was almost over, but his students seemed to find a way to use the remaining time messing with themselves. Unfortunately, the cheering must be ceased for now.

Suddenly, his eyeballs moved to the sight of the intimate looking Jean and Sasha, who noticed that their teacher was watching them all along as they took a distance from each other. He scolded at them, "Kirschtein, Braus! This is not the time to show your affection that you've been trying to hide, you sick lovebirds! Now, get back to your seats at this once!"

They all retreated to their places as their next lesson began.

* * *

He remembered it was senior year.

He was at the top of his life—having a girlfriend, going to the same college as hers (and they took business major together), and basically enjoying the days. There were some obstacles though, especially when it occurred between his relationship with Sasha. They had an on-and-off kind of relationship—some fights, quarrels happened, but in the end they managed to take the center point of it anyway.

He didn't realize it had been eight years, until he decided to do an end of it—in a good or bad kind of way.

* * *

**3.**

"Jean, where are we going? Why does it take so long to get there?"

They had been walking for almost half an hour at the streets, in the condition of Sasha was being blindfolded, only having Jean as her guide. He was searching for the place where Sasha loves to eat. They had been circling around at the same block, but he felt like an idiot for not being there minutes ago. He came across a white building, with a neon sign consisting large curly words written under an artistic depiction of a plate of baked potato with sausages with a glass of fresh juice on the side.

It said 'Fait à la Maison'.

He was delighted when he finally found the place. The man took off his girlfriend's blindfold as he showed her the place. When she saw the sign, she was ecstatic. She jumped to give him a hug and planted a small kiss on his cheek and lips.

"You're the best, Jean!"

They walked together inside and discovered the place was full of customers. At first, Sasha was worried because it was almost impossible for them to get a seat since it was weekend and there were some lucky promo for the night's special offer. But Jean didn't seem to sweat any matter of it, as he asked one of the waitresses where he should go. She took the couple to a grand room which was located a little further inside from the main dining hall.

The interior of the VIP room was very detailed with a touch of elegant, Victorian accent. It was a reconstructed replica of the original dining hall of one of the famous buildings at Europe, but Jean didn't recognize the name. The waitress showed them a reserved table for two near the balcony, which provided them a luminous view of the streets filled with lights at night. The bright full moon at the sky seemed to be more than just a compliment.

"Jean... I don't know what to say..." Sasha murmured softly. Jean could only smile, as he kissed the crown of her head. "I know that you haven't tried dining at the VIP, so I guess it's about time we have to pamper ourselves with first class service."

They sat there as they ordered their dinner for that night. Jean preferred to have a _pâté aux__ pommes de terre_[1], while Sasha craved for one of her favorites—_tartiflette_ with grilled ham[2]. Both accustomed their dishes with champagne. They didn't expect the fancy menu, since Fait à la Maison was known for its homemade cuisine, specialized in potato cuisines. The waiter later explained that it also served classy dishes besides the classic homemade ones, but it could only be available for VIP customers only.

The old stories came out as they waited for the dishes.

"Do you remember, Jean, our first date?" Sasha started. "You came in front of my door at midnight, and then you took me out to this serene park, and we sat down and watched the stars?"

The former sixth best graduate of Scouting High chuckled. "Yeah. But I don't think it was a good idea when both of us forgot to bring our jackets since the night was cold enough to make us shivering."

"Yeah... but it was beautiful, anyway."

Soon the topics began to spread—about college, high school, their old friends, and moments of them together. It wasn't bad being nostalgic, actually. They had these talks before, but they never got bored with it. After all, those were part of memories worth being remembered.

When the dishes came, they paused their conversation and enjoyed their meal.

Of course, the girl was the one who looked so merry when it comes to food. She ate her dish almost vigorously—it must be because of the inclining period for her to have a large appetite. Meanwhile, Jean had it less than a mouthful everytime he scooped up the pie to his mouth. No, it wasn't because he lost his appetite—his _yin_ to Sasha's _yang_—nor because of the meal, since it satisfied his taste so well. Oh, no, it was because of his unstable level of nerve since there was a reason why he took her there.

He planned to pull something out of his sleeve.

"Sasha..."

She turned at her boyfriend when he called her name just as she finished her meal.

"Yeah?"

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.

_Is it the right time to say it?_

"I... want to say something to you."

She blinked her eyes in bewilderment before she smiled and said cheerfully, "Go ahead!"

Jean gulped. He exhaled, then he went on with his words carefully, "Sasha, you know how much I love you. And I know that you often say that your love is much more bigger than your love towards potatoes, which I really appreciate about that. And I'm very glad for this relationship we've had for eight years—to be honest, my life has been more colorful than I expected, thanks to you."

The young lady blushed, but she didn't say a single word. He continued, "I love you, Sasha, I really do. I know that we often encounter ourselves with hindrance—fortunately, we always get it under control. The start of our relationship wasn't that kind of good, since the first time I confessed to you, I had six bottles of beer, extremely drunk and confused; and the next day, I had the second worst hangover of my life, right after the day after Reiner threw the wildest bachelor party ever. Well, the point is..."

There were no furthermore words after that. Sasha looked at him as she waited patiently.

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"I don't know, if we can carry on."

For a second, Sasha tried to absorb the meaning behind her lover's words. She was puzzled, from the way he said it, the gestures which implied meanings—oh, no. _No_. She was shocked, as Jean himself was almost as surprised as herself when he realized about what he just said.

"Are you t-trying to say t-that..." she stammered. "... you want to... b-break up with me?"

His eyes bulged out when he heard that. "N-no! No! Sasha, you're getting the wrong idea! Please—"

"O-oh... oh, I get the irony, now, here, Jean," she didn't seem to listen to his words, "you took me here as the _last_ time we go out together, as lovers. You wanted to give me the chance to enjoy myself before you decided to walk away from my life... permanently."

"That's not what I'm trying to—"

"I've had enough of your tricks, Jean. For once, I thought you're a good man with a heart of gold—but all I see now is that you're just a jerk, playing around with my heart."

She got up from her seat and tried to leave, but Jean caught her hand to stop her. She slammed his hand away as she went a few steps ahead. He didn't just leave her be—he pulled her to his side, but she struggled. The French forced himself to take her into his arms. She felt very upset, but his embrace didn't change her mind to leave him for good.

Until she saw his face.

It was a rare sight to see the love of her life, Jean Kirschtein, in tears. He didn't say anything just yet, but his tears... she knew that he was hurt. She was always the one who cried in his shoulders, the one who ended up telling her feelings—she was always in his protection. He was her sanctuary, her knight in shining armor, her defense. He was always there for her when she needed him.

But to see him in such vulnerable state...

"Sasha, I haven't finished my words..." he finally continued inbetween his sobs, "...and I hope you won't leave me just yet."

This time, she decided to give him a chance.

"Alright, then."

"What I'm trying to tell you is, I don't know if we can carry on, because I was scared," he uttered. "And I was scared because... I'm afraid I couldn't be someone you want to have forever by your side. Neither of us are perfect, but I don't care. I want us to be together forever, but all I need is your answer now."

He went down on one knee and took out a small box. He opened it to exhibit its content—a diamond ring with an embossing of these words at the inner side of the ring: 'Someone as Sincere, Happy, and Affectionate like no other', crafted in such beautiful way. Sasha was baffled and stunned, as she covered her mouth. He was contented with her reaction, and he was ready to find out.

"Sasha Braus, will you marry me?"

A moment silence occurred.

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"Of course, you idiot."

The other customers, who happened to watch the scene, clapped their hands to congratulate to the engaged couple. Jean placed the ring at Sasha's ring finger, as he gave her a kiss on her forehead. She wiped off his tears and cupped his face even though she also cried, and they hugged. The couple ended their engagement night at the restaurant with a passionate kiss.

And then they walked home, holding hands.

"Jean."

"Yeah?"

"Will you promise to stay with me and never leave?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

* * *

Eight years of relationship had been ended with an engagement.

He recalled how his friends reacted—Marco was the first one to be told through a phone call, he said he was so excited, he was unable to sleep; Eren didn't want to lose to him, so he proposed to Mikasa when they had their private vacation somewhere they referred as an 'exotic island'; Reiner and Annie were glad there was another couple waiting to be official at the altar; Armin was very happy for him, as he offered his service to be his personal EO for his wedding; Ymir and Christa decided to help Armin organizing the details and the rest; Bertholdt rewarded him and Sasha a gift; and Connie realized that he should look for someone to marry.

Weeks after that, they planned their marriage. The reception would be held at a luxurious hotel, which wasn't so far from a traditional church around three blocks. Jean considered Armin's offer, so he took the chance—gladly, the blond didn't disappoint him. Sasha went straight in charge for the food—she was rather specific about the choices. In the end, their plan only needed efforts to achieve the perfect realization.

It was almost perfect for them, but not for someone who happened to deliver the tragedy upon the happiest day of their lives.

**tbc.**

* * *

**A/N**:

[1] A French dish (pie) consists of potatoes, crème fraîche, puff pastry; often eaten with green salad. Can be served as a side dish or as the main course.  
[2] French dish made with potatoes, reblochon cheese, lardons and onions.

Finally, an AU fic that doesn't refer to Glee.

I want to make this JeanSasha fic as a oneshot but I guess it would be too long so I have to make it a twoshot instead. For the angst, I will put it in the next chapter. And I'm sorry if no satisfaction guarranteed even though it's hell of a chapter to write. Plus, I didn't put the pairings at the warning because: there are too much, and I just want to make you all guess (even though it's obvious in the end, anyway.)

This fic is dedicated to **Otep** and **Mashem** who just had their birthdays yesterday, also to all JeanSasha shippers out there. Here you go!

P.S. Bahasa reviews are _very acceptable_ (thank you very much!); and I decided to change the category to tragedy because of... well, you'll see.


	2. Part II

_Imagine a world where no music was playing.  
Then think of a church with nobody praying.  
Have you ever looked up at a sky with no blue?  
Then you've seen a picture of me without you._

—_George Jones (A Picture of Me without You)_

* * *

**The Pledge; Part II**

**Shingeki No Kyojin © Isayama Hajime**

**Warning: AU, typo(s), longer chapter and more stories, (failed) angst-or-tragedy-feels**

* * *

**4.**

_The_ _police_ _discovered_ _a_ _body_ _not_ _far_ _from_ _an_ _apartment_ _downtown_. _A_ _man_, _at_ _his_ _mid_-_late_ _twenties_, _around_ _six_ _feet_ _and_ _an_ _inch_ _tall,_ _was_ _shot_ _several_ _times_ _to_ _death_ _by_ _a_ _thief_ _who_ _recently_ _managed_ _to_ _escape_ _the_ _security_ _of_ _the_ _state_ _bank_ _after_ _stealing_ _more_ _than_ _six_ _thousand_ _and_ _three_ _hundred_ _dollars_. _The_ _identity_ _of_ _the_ _criminal_ _is_ _still_ _unknown_ _as_ _the_ _police_ _are_ _still_ _searching_ _for_ _the_ _perpetrator_. _According_ _to_ _a_ _witness_, _he_ _heard_ _a_ _loud_ _gunshot_ _noise_ _around_ _6.30_ _a.m_...

It was a few days before his wedding day.

When he woke up, he had half an hour or less to get himself ready for work. As per usual, he went to the living room to watch the local morning news while sipping up a fresh, hot cup of coffee just before his fiancée made him breakfast. The news came out at general, cliché ones—inflation of the economy, an illegal underground operation of trafficking across continents, teenage mothers who threw away their illegitimate children, and some poor beggar's failed attempt to rob a house of riches. That included a dead man found near an apartment—actually the location was only a couple of miles from his place. The news even got itself a place on the headlines.

But that dead man... happened to be a friend of his.

He couldn't figure out who it was until he received a phone call. It was Mikasa, who recently came across the scene of crime. She had a glimpse look of the victim, but she didn't see the face clearly. All she knew was the dead man's hair was dark.

Jean hoped that it wasn't _him_.

But Sasha herself had a bad feeling about her deceased friend. Actually, it startled her a few days before—she often got herself nightmares involving someone whom she thought were the one who died recently. She didn't want to take for granted the sudden sight of the future, even though her mind kept telling her that soon the truth will be revealed, as it got closer to reality.

"How about if we go there to take a look at... who he is actually, honey?" Sasha asked her soon-to-be-husband, concerned. "I have a really bad undeniable feeling about this, I'm afraid."

"Alright."

They stepped into the car, and then drove their way to the apartment that was mentioned on the widespreaded news.

* * *

A sea of people were scattered to check out the surroundings, killing their curiosity after what they saw from television. There were police lines around the area where the body was found. Newscasters took the scenes here and there as they gave detailed reports of the event, while the cameramen recorded the current happenings. Meanwhile, the body had been picked up to be sent to the nearest hospital by the ambulance.

Jean and Sasha arrived at the right timing just as it hadn't left the location yet. After Jean parked at the side of the road, they immediately got out from the car and ran over to a group of people in white who took control of the body.

"Excuse us, please! Can we bother you for a minute?"

They finally reached the paramedics who were about to take the victim inside the white vehicle. It was already inserted at a long, black body bag. Jean asked them to open up the bag just to have the sight of the head.

"I'm sorry, can you please open up the bag? I want to check if it's my friend or not."

"Well, then, I'm afraid I can't, we are in a hurry so we can do an autopsy on him," a tall, skinny ginger haired paramedic dejected.

"Look, it only takes a while, why can't you do it? Three seconds, I promise!" Jean begged.

"Sir, you're wasting our time here. If you excuse us, we need to go."

"You waste your time just to say no to us, yet you didn't even leave!"

"Now, whose fault is that? We would like for you to leave, sir, since we're doing our job. Thank you and sorry for the inconvenience."

"Are you even _sorry_ about that, mister? Oh, and by the way, we're sorry too; we wouldn't leave until you show us who he is," Sasha went stiff-necked. She began preaching at them in an octave higher than her usual voice, "my fiancé and I, we will be married in less than a week. Our friends are supposed to help us out preparing it until it reached close to perfection, including one of them who happened to be the best man at our wedding, and to prevent incoming future disastrous shenanigans, would you just please let us take a look at the—"

"Alright! Alright, geez."

The ginger haired paramedic granted their request, even though he was peevish about it. Annoyed, he elbowed the paramedic beside him to do the job as he went to the ambulance.

"Todd, help 'em out, would ya?"

Todd, who handled the upper limbs, quickly opened the bag to reveal the face. The dead man was pale and his mouth was agape, the black orbs emptily stared at the sky. Jean and Sasha finally recognized who he was, not long after Todd zipped the bag back to close it and whispered a sad-toned 'sorry' and brought it inside the ambulance, until the wheels rolled away and left the area. Meanwhile, the future spouses were still shocked about the person—they didn't expect that it was him.

But it was.

"Marco."

Jean was on his knees; his heart throbbed hard, it made him trembling. Sasha held him so he wouldn't fall to the ground. He croaked his best friend's name again a few times, chanting nos on his head, even though he didn't cry. He refused to believe the truth beyond the loss of his beloved.

"I just lost my best man."

When the day came, two events were held. But only one that gave them a warning about their existence, and that no one can save them or be safe from death—the irony of happiness upon tragedy.

* * *

.o.

He stared at Marco's smiling portrait one more time before putting it back to the photo album.

Besides Sasha, Marco Bodt was one of the people that he truly loved in his deepest heart. He was his best friend, his closest person to have a friendship with. He came to him whenever he had problems when he was the one who could only give him the right solution. They shared a brotherly bond together like no other.

Sadly he was long gone. He left him before the day when it should be one of the happiest days of his life. He didn't deserve this kind of ending—he was supposed to be at his side to accompany him along with his wife! He should've been waiting for him at the altar if he didn't die, since he was his best man.

Even though Jean was happy to be married with Sasha at that time, he still felt empty.

They say that things get harder when it comes to dealing obstacles at marriage. It wasn't easy for him and Sasha, but he always hoped for strength to overcome it. He reminded himself how strong Sasha is, because she was the one who always smiled when there was almost no hope for them.

He gazed at her beautiful face, and said, "I am very lucky to have you, my dear."

* * *

**5.**

"How come it didn't occur?"

The gynecologist deadpanned. She explained, "If it were meant to be, you should be already pregnant by now. I've seen your results and your past usage of drugs. None of it seemed to be the reason of your incapability of being pregnant. I think you should take care of yourself and your husband also. Make sure that none of you overused these drugs, and always remind each other about the do's and don'ts to keep them healthy. And a side note: consider the position too when you're doing it."

Sasha frowned. "Even sex positions also affect pregnancy?"

"Yes."

Before they left, the lady had 'a little talk' with the gynecologist that needed a time for Jean to wait outside. He didn't really want to know the details either, it would probably involve things that he wouldn't get since it was 'women talk', as he referred. It didn't take too long, they still had had some time to go to a certain reunion venue.

After their check at the OB/GYN, Jean and Sasha went straight to their old high school, Scouting High. They were invited for the school's 114th anniversary, ten years after their graduation. They expected everyone would be there, might as well looking back through the past while getting to know recent events occurred in the lives of their friends.

Good thing everyone was there, so the party didn't get too quiet. They were all jolly and seemed to enjoy their time. When Jean and Sasha arrived at the party, they could see their friends' faces in their friendship circle as always—Reiner and Annie, with their fraternal twin toddlers; Connie, who happened to be dating Mina at that time; and Bertholdt who went out with Ymir. The couple waved at them, greeting from afar.

"Hey, guys!"

"Sasha, you're here!"

"Yo, Jean! Nice to see you, man!"

"How are you both?"

After that, they exchanged stories about their lives. Chortles and jests were heard among them, just like old times.

"Look at this little guy, here, how ya doin'?" Jean smirked at the elder twin son of the Braun children, but the little boy squinted, glancing him in a weird way before he left him, uninterested. The beige haired man watched the boy who was now playing with his sister, as he told the boy's father, "I'm not sure your son even likes me."

"Well, he needs to take some time to get to know you, of course," Reiner raised his eyebrows. "You can visit us anytime. Or maybe you can help babysit the kids while Annie and I take care of the business?"

"Yeah, right, like I want to do _that_."

Bertholdt, on the other hand, chuckled. He said to Jean, "No worries. As a friend-slash-occasional babysitter of the Brauns, it wasn't so bad. Although it's best when you don't mess with them so much while compromising your goal with their demands, regarding their parents' genetic behavior..."

Jean rolled his eyes. "I bet Reiner soon will teach these kids Business Management 101 as well as his wife with Annie's Extreme Survival for Dummies when they reached primary school."

"Yup."

Both of them laughed. Suddenly, the dark haired man moved closer to Jean, as he tried to tell something to him under his breath, "You know that I've been planning to have a double date with Armin and Christa in the next month, right?"

"Uh-huh, why?"

"Actually, I planned it not just for the date. I kinda... wanted to ask Ymir to marry me."

Jean was dumbfounded. "Oh, wow. That's just... great. Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's time, you know? Seeing Reiner and Annie, Eren and Mikasa, as well as you and Sasha got married... You all look so happy, and I want to be happy too. Ymir is a lovely woman after all, despite her cynical attitude and snide mocks," Bertholdt answered, as he scratched the back of his right ear. "And by the way, don't tell anyone about this yet, okay? You're the first one to know about this."

"... Alright."

Meanwhile, Sasha chatted with the ladies at the other side. She teased Mina, "Why don't you tell us about your plan to go on a... wait, what was it again? Cruise date?"

The black haired girl in pigtails bashfully hid her cheerful smile. "Oh, it was nothing, really. We registered ourselves for a lucky draw and we didn't expect to win the tickets—at least we wanted to aim for the motorbikes."

"A lucky draw with motorbikes as a semi grand prize?" Ymir snorted. "At least it sounds better than heavyweight motorcycles. I couldn't imagine how is that shrimp able to ride a Harley Davidson."

"Huh. If there was a time he would do that, it's his effort of wanting to be macho and all, which might fail him big time," Annie commented. "He should have a... _classier_ kind of ride. You know, Reiner and I once had a long trip to have a meeting on a limo. Somebody happened to rent it for us."

"You don't usually brag, Annie." Mina uttered.

"I guess it's alright to open up about the advantages you get when your business is at the crème de la crème phase. After all it has been years my husband worked on this from scratch; I'm just helping him out."

They got carried away by the conversations when four of the group came less than an hour later.

"We're here, guys!"

Armin, Christa, Eren, and Mikasa all arrived at the same time. They immediately took notice on how Mikasa finally got one in the oven (so far, it had been three months). The blond sweethearts apparently had been secretly engaged, when Ymir noticed the golden ring on Christa's left ring finger, much to Bertholdt's dismay also. The guys hoped to get an invitation to Armin's bachelor party ("Make sure it's crazier than mine, okay?" Reiner joked, as he winked naughtily), while the mentioned person could only laugh nervously when he heard that.

"Looks like someone is about to have a baby shower in the next couple of months!"

Connie was the first one to point it out. Eren couldn't help but grin, while Mikasa calmly tucked her scarf as she tightened the grasp of her fingers between Eren's. He wanted to boast about it, but Mikasa would reprimand him. They broke the news about the baby who happened to be a boy, to which the others congratulated the expecting spouses.

"I hope the boy wouldn't be as troublesome as you are!" Jean blatantly twitted as he brushed his knuckles on Eren's head, huddling him. The brunette was a little pissed by that, and pushing him away. "Geh. I can ensure you that, as long as you're not around him, since you might give him a bad influence..."

"Who are you telling I'm a bad example? I would surely do better at teaching him how to be a real man than you!" Jean answered.

"I don't want my son to be a party animal drunkard, you sly wolf!"

"Wow, I guess I have to tell little Eren Jr. about his daddy's magnificent record of having the most shots at Uncle Reiner's bachelor party, don'tcha think?"

"Oh, shut up."

Soon, the topic changed from random to babies. The ladies guessed how the baby would look like if it were about to born. Mikasa herself imagined that her first child will inherit his father's stubbornness, but people will recognize him as a prodigy like his mother. His hair will be black as raven's feather, accompanied with bright leaf-green iris on the eyeballs; she added. She hadn't prepared a name for the fetus yet—though, Eren told her that he already thought of it, but he kept it as a surprise until around a week before the birth.

"Speaking of children, how's the baby business going between you and Jean?" Christa asked.

The question silenced her. At first, she didn't want to answer it. But, she decided to clarify it to them, so they wouldn't worry too much. "I guess we'll just have to be patient for this one," she reluctantly stated as she shrugged. For awhile, the others were taken aback by the news. Sasha herself guessed it would be coming, so she was okay.

"There will be a time for you, don't worry about that," Mikasa bucked her up, to which the girl gave her a sincere 'thank you'.

Unbeknownst to them, hours had passed. Reiner decided to give a little speech before doing a toast. He cleared his throat, and spoke well-mannered, "Well, first off, I would like to thank God for whatever He gave to us all, and everyone here for being the greatest friends ever. I am truly grateful that our friendship lasts more than ten years, and it makes me even happier to know that you're all here, at the finest condition. May we have better lives at ahead of us. Cheers."

All of them raised and clinked their glasses to one another. It was one of their best reunions yet.

* * *

Back at home, both Jean and Sasha were exhausted.

Their attempt to hide their pain was successful. None seemed to realize how stressful they felt at that day. Their friends didn't know how embittered it was for them. All they needed was some time to relax, avoiding whatever that bothers them.

"Jean."

A soft voice summoned his name.

"What's the matter?"

"Do you still love me, even though we might not have a child of our own?"

It jabbed him right in his heart. He knew so well how it ached, but he tried to ignore it.

"Of course."

* * *

.o.

Day by day. Night by night. The pain kept growing, bigger and bigger.

In some way, he thought that it was time. No, it wasn't the time just yet, he convinced himself. He sensed the fragrant of her hair—a mix of roses and dandelions. He recalled how tasty her baked potatoes that she made for him every day. It was the best thing that he ever tasted more than any kind of food in the whole world.

The sky itself went dark, but there were fewer stars than how he usually saw it. The wind blew gently, but it was so cold it made him shivering. The night was the start of the new moon phase.

He knew something was on its way, but he wasn't read to welcome it.

* * *

**6.**

It was just a normal day at the Kirschtein household.

The clocked showed 7.15 a.m. sharp. Jean was already at his work attire. He sat on the couch as he read the newspaper and changing channels at the same time. Of course, the TV was on before he went downstairs, but he didn't want to watch local news anymore ever since the day his best friend died. He moved to the channel which played a petty reality show about a group of friends who often goes out for a drink to talk about their lives.

_Hold_ _on._ _Something's_ _missing._

He noticed that he didn't have any coffee just now. He couldn't smell his breakfast, since it hadn't been made. He didn't even hear any noises made from the kitchen, even the pacing footsteps of his wife. Her voice wasn't even heard a little bit, which was extremely weird since she was a chatterbox of contentment.

_Oh,_ _no._

The man decided to go to the kitchen to see what she was doing.

.

.

.

.

_Screech_.

.

.

.

**THUD**.

Just a few seconds after he twisted the kitchen doorknob, Sasha collapsed. He was tremendously horrified at the scene, as he crouched down and shook her limp body, calling her name out loud in repeat.

"Sasha! Sasha, can you hear me?! Wake up! Sasha! SASHA!"

_Please, don't leave me..._

* * *

The doctor said that it was a mild concussion.

"There will be likely a large chance that it would heal, though," the middle-aged man told him. "As long as she doesn't overwork and push herself too hard and consuming healthy meal regularly, your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Kirschtein. Fortunately, there is not a single significant damage on her brain. But still, there is a small chance that something might affect it at the future, so you need to be aware of her condition."

"Is that all?"

"Well, if there's anything happened, you can contact me at any time. I wish the safety upon the two of you."

Jean thanked him before he left the hospital. He didn't say a single word throughout the whole trip. Sasha felt very guilty of him, she blamed herself for suddenly passing out and her husband had to skip work at that day just to see what was wrong with her. She didn't want to disturb him, so she decided not to talk at all for awhile.

When they reached home, the brown haired girl murmured, "I'm sorry, Jean."

"... Why?"

"For this. This is all my fault. I should've been able to take care of myself," she spoke slowly, biting her lower lip. "But apparently I gave you a heart attack instead. You even decided not to go to work today because of me."

He smiled faintly, as he replied, "Are you out of your mind? I want you to be safe, Sasha. I don't want us to lose each other. After Marco... went to a safer place out there, I realized that I need to hold on to you even more. Also, I want to keep our promise to be by your side and never leave you behind, remember?"

She nodded; her lips formed a curve upwards.

But, still, there was a thing that she kept away from him. She didn't want him to know just yet, but she had to tell him before it was too late. Despite God knows the remaining time to live that she had left, she was also afraid that he would be angered at her for breaking his heart even more. And then he would be the one who leave her, breaking their promise. She would be all by herself without anyone to accompany her.

Even though so, her determination and her trust toward him made the bad thoughts slowly perished. Her decision had been clear—it was time.

"There's something... that I would like to say."

He turned to his wife, softening his facial expression. "What is it?"

"I..."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"I have a cancer, Jean."

Five words had spurted out. She finally said it, and for a while it made her glad to let her burden out after all this time. But then, unstoppable tears streamed down from her brown orbs, she couldn't hold it any longer. She sobbed, almost hysterically, in fear of what he might do to her after this. She pressed her face against her thighs as she hugged her legs, curling up at the couch.

"I... I'm so sorry, Jean..." she cried. "I should have... I should've told you earlier. I-I didn't mean to... I don't want to do this to you... Oh, God, w-what have I done? I—"

"Just stop."

Her heart skipped a beat when a calm but stern voice came out. Suddenly, she felt a warm and tight embrace around her. A pair of hands caught in-between the locks of her brunette hair, caressing it gently. She slowly stopped crying, as Jean pursed his lips to hold himself from being too emotional. There needed to be someone who was calm enough to handle the situation.

"I will never hate you for that, Sasha, it's okay," his voice trembled. "We can go through this, just like we always do. You will survive, I'm very sure of it."

As he always did, he removed away her tears with his kisses. He held her hand; his grip was strong but full of comfort. His golden eyes were shaded and bright. Sasha was glad that she wouldn't have to go through this alone, because he still kept his promise.

"Sasha..."

"Yes, dear?"

"Promise me you will stay by my side. We're all in this together, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Soon, Sasha received a lot of treatments to prevent the cancer on her ovaries from growing. Jean himself often stayed at home to lend a hand for her; taking her to therapies, preparing meal when she was unable to cook, helping her doing chores. Those were the toughest times of them.

Their friends found out about Sasha weeks later. It was a poignant grief after the loss of one of their closest friends. They sent out a lot of support to Sasha and Jean in many forms—self-treat books, flowers, cards, fancy as well as homemade dishes, even a pair of vacation tickets from a lottery game. The couple was really grateful to have such caring friends like them.

Months later, the doctor finally stated that Sasha had been successfully 90% cured—a sentence they had waited for a long time. Jean was so delighted to hear the news, as he immediately kissed his wife. Sasha praised the Lord for giving her the chance to live longer, but what was important most of all was the fact that they were still together.

At night, they slow danced at the living room. They put on their wedding song on the stereo; the soothing tune filled the whole place. They turned off the lights and put on some candles instead. It was a beautiful moment after so long they had been in desperation.

"At last, we're still together," Sasha said. "I thought I wouldn't have the chance to be here. I guess I'm lucky after all."

"It's not just pure luck, though," Jean added. "You have me, and everyone else rooting you from behind. All of us prayed every day for your health, and now here you are—you're just as good as you were, and you will always be."

He spun her body as she circled him, and caught her back carefully. He continued, "Do you remember back at our wedding, when you accidentally stepped on my foot after we did the spin? It was kind of silly, but it didn't really hurt so much. You were so pretty, everything felt so right."

"Does that mean I'm not pretty right now?"

Jean laughed, as he ruffled her hair. Sasha's face went sullen. "You're always pretty for me, Sasha, especially if you smiled. If you're happy, then I'm happy too."

Suddenly, they stopped dancing. Their faces went intimate, so they could feel each other's breaths. Their eyes gazed one another, a strong spark was emitted between them. They leaned closer to feel their lips locked in a short, chaste kiss.

The moon shined directly at them just as they separated.

"Sasha?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jean."

* * *

.o.

One day someone told him about the miracle of surviving. Life itself is a priceless thing, but a second chance is worth so many. It's almost impossible to get, and that was what he learned. Just like he said to her, it wasn't just 'pure luck'—all hopes and prayers from people around her were one of the crucial things in order for her to stay alive. He didn't lose her; she didn't leave him just yet.

She might survived, but there was still a chance that it could go worse, so he decided to give her something when it's time to say goodbye. He thought it would be some kind of message—a letter, perhaps. He may be not sophisticated enough with the choice of words since he was a straightforward and outspoken person. Nevertheless, he was able to say what was on his mind just right.

He grabbed a pen and a paper nearest to him, and started writing in slant letters. He poured out his heart's content in it, not caring too much about the details as long as it sounded like he wanted to. He wanted his beloved woman to know the point of his words upon their farewell, as a proof of his love all this time.

* * *

**7.**

"You know, it really has been a _long_ time since we had a guys' night out."

Soft jazz music was playing throughout the room. Bertholdt just had another shot of tequila at the self-serving bar. Connie managed to score at the pool table, leaving Jean sighed to himself for losing a few points behind. At the couches, Reiner and Eren smoked a couple of cigarettes as they had a casual talk with each other. A scene of a typical 'guys night out'—just like what Eren had said.

"Right back atcha, Eren," Connie added. "We've all been so busy with our lives—taking care of our wives, kids, busy with our jobs, and it's time that we need a break to enjoy ourselves, don't y'all think?"

"True that." The tallest male answered, followed with the others' nod of agreement. He then leisurely asked, "Anyone cares for a drink?"

"I do. Scotch on the rocks, please."

Jean walked himself to the bar and sat on one of the stools, feeling tired. Bertholdt smiled at him as he finished preparing the drink. Jean thanked him for it, immediately swallowed it all off before he wiped the stain off his mouth. He rested his chin on his hand, mused about almost everything.

_Clack._

He could hear the sound of the balls colliding with each other, and the bald man's groan came out after. He didn't really listen to what Connie was fussed about, moreover cared. Meanwhile, Armin just arrived through the stairs to see how everyone's going. "You guys having a good time? Hope you won't mind me here."

"Are you kidding? We should thank you for this, Armin—I mean, we didn't know you live in a flat under a bar," Reiner replied. "Looks like we don't have to look furthermore if we wanted to meet up again in the future."

"I'm glad you're fine with it."

The shorter blond then sat beside the gloomy looking Jean. He tilted his face, asked him, "Are you okay?"

"... Huh? Uh, yeah, I'm fine."

The owner of the Kirschtein surname averted his eyes from the sea of blue staring at him. Armin, who was confused at first, suddenly smiled. Jean didn't get him, so he decided to ignore him. Even though so, Armin said, "You don't seem fine for me. You looked a little... lost on your own thoughts."

He continued after he had himself an appletini, "Two years. There was not terrible news coming out from you after Sasha had her last treatment, regardless your plan with her to, somehow, bear a child. I don't know, but I don't think there aren't too many problems that upset you more than when she... you know. Wait, is that it, or something else in your—"

"Nah."

Jean cut him, explained, "Look, dude, I appreciate you trying to help me out. Sasha and I are fine, just relax. About the child-bearing thing, well, she and I need to put that aside since we have a lot to think about. Cliché problems, the usual ones that don't stop bugging me, but it'll be okay. Tonight has been great, thanks for inviting."

After that, he moved away from him. Armin sighed, he wanted to apologize to Jean for meddling him, but he didn't want to ruin his mood. He rose from the stool as he went to the bar and served himself a glass of Tom Collins.

Meanwhile, Jean decided to sit beside Eren, who just puffed the smoke out from his third stick. He picked up the cigarette box from the table. 'Lucky Strike'—commonly known as Luckies—was written in bold letters, Underneath it was the distinctive red circle with black, green, and white outlines. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Eren demanded him to hand a stick. He idly opened the box so the green eyed man could take one. "Thanks," he shortly said before lighting it.

For awhile, Jean stared at the sight of his friends who smoked. Back then, he tried to smoke, but it didn't work for him. He didn't get the aftermath taste of the burning cigarette at his mouth, and he wondered why people waste so much money to have their lungs rot out after years. Eren realized a pair of golden orbs cautiously gazed at him.

"What's wrong?"

"How come you're so addicted to these?"

Hearing the question, Eren grimaced. "When I got my job, I have a boss who is surprisingly short. He thinks I'm a pain in his ass, but it goes the same to him for me too. I find him very odd, besides being OCD and grumpy all the time; he called me to his office just to help him light his cigarette. I asked him for a stick and he let me be. At first it felt weird, but I couldn't stop myself to resist it afterwards."

"Oh, I see."

"Are you starting to think to have these too? I don't mind if you want one, here you go."

Jean scoffed, refusing the offer. "Why would I want to harm myself using cancer sticks?"

Eren didn't talk back, he forgot that the reason Jean didn't smoke was because of Sasha deteriorating health back then. He put the box at the table and mumbled, "Oh, yeah, right. Sorry about that, man."

"S'okay," Jean responded. "Mikasa doesn't mind your habit, does she?"

"Lately, she has been scolding me for smoking quite often. Ever since Junior was born, she insisted to have this 'green and clean' healthy kind of lifestyle—we eat nothing but organics, we use textile bags to bring groceries instead of plastic bags. I know that she was concerned over me and Junior, but I guess the problem here is just me."

"... Ah."

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After a long silent moment, Jean felt a buzz on his left pocket at his trousers. He took out his phone to receive a call from Christa.

"_Hello? Jean, is that you?_"

The worried tone of the soprano voice at the other side of the phone made him unsure.

"Yeah, it's me. What's wrong?"

"_Jean, you need to come here as soon as possible!_"

"Eh? Is there any problem?"

"_It's Sasha! She's... she's... Oh, my God, I don't—_"

"I'm on my way. Take good care of her, alright?"

"_... Okay._"

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.

_Click_.

He ended the call. Jean grabbed his jacket and ran over to the stairs. The others were confused at the hasty behavior of their beige-haired fellow. Bertholdt shouted, "Jean, where are you going?!"

"Sorry, guys. I gotta go. I can't stay here any longer."

"But-but we're about to have a bet on the midnight soccer game!" Connie clamored. "It's not fun when you're not ar—"

"I DON'T HAVE A TIME FOR GAME AND SHIT, OKAY?!" Jean cried angrily. "Something happened to Sasha, and all of you don't even dare to fucking stop me from leaving! I'M OUT!"

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And with that, he stormed out of their sight, taking the stairs up to leave. Soon, the room was filled with silence.

* * *

Sasha fell ill again.

Jean arrived just before his wife's condition gotten worse. She fainted all of the sudden, her body was feverish. He immediately took her to the hospital; the doctor suspected it for complication. She needed to be treated at the hospital, for how long he didn't know for sure. He thought after all this time, she was fine, but the image of Sasha dying crossed him, making him almost at the verge of tears.

No, he shouldn't think of her that way. She still had her promise to keep.

Lately, he spent most of his time at the hospital accompanying Sasha. He was always there, at the side of her bed, telling her stories that never worn out. If not, he went over to the bar above Armin's flat, only when it wasn't full of customers. He often mourned alone, or with Armin who listened to his complaints and thoughts.

"I... I don't get it anymore, Armin," he told the blond one day. "What kind of sick game is this? What is God trying to tell me?"

The latter was quiet for a while. "I think He is trying to tell you to stay on your feet no matter how hard things get. You've been going through this, remember? Both you and Sasha survived it together. You just need to strengthen your faith and He will listen to your prayers."

An upward curve appeared on Armin's lips. "Keep your head up high, okay? I hate seeing you depressed like this."

"... Right."

Not long after that, he began to separate himself from his friends. He didn't go out for guys night out anymore as they questioned him. Still, they asked him to come at least once and stop worrying about Sasha. Hearing that, he was outraged—he even rebuked them to leave him alone.

"I don't care if you all ganged up on me and not helping me out with any of my troubles. Even if you all turned your backs against me, I'm not coming—because she needs me."

Weeks had passed, but she hadn't been getting well yet. She couldn't come home. Jean would have to stay at the hospital instead of his house, but he didn't mind at all about that. He wanted to stay by her side after all. He waited for her to come back to him, just like the last time.

He kept waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

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And yet, waiting.

* * *

"Sasha, I got you something."

After knocking the door, Jean slided the door to see her there. Her condition was still the same. He sat at the seat where he usually at. He brought her a meal box, and in there was Sasha's favorite potato soup from Fait à la Maison. He opened the lid, the delicious smell of the soup wafted through the room.

"We're gonna have potato stew for lunch today."

But, Sasha didn't even wake herself up. Her eyelids were shut; her breath was slow and steady. She didn't respond when Jean touched her, which made him suspicious. He shook his head and bit his lip, throwing away the image of her leaving him away.

_No, Jean. She's still alive. She's still by your side._

"Sasha... wake up."

He caressed her hand lightly. It got so cold, it eventually made her face looked pale. Jean exhaled, and then he moved his hand to her cheek.

"Time to eat, S—"

Her face was almost frozen. He thought that it wouldn't be that chilly, but it went far than what he had expected. She didn't even move a bit. He shook her hand, but there was no response. He slowly called out her name, "S-Sasha... Sasha..."

_Don't._

He didn't think it would be possible to feed her straight. Instead, he scooped a spoonful to his mouth, as he moved closer to her face.

_Leave._

He opened up her mouth, and closed his eyes. He leaned down to deliver it down through her throat, giving her a soft kiss.

_Me._

Even her lips were as cold as ice. He was shocked by it, he couldn't feel anything warmth. He collide his tongue to hers, but it was stiff.

_Sasha..._

He raised his head and suddenly grabbed her right arm. He put his index and middle finger just under her wrist to feel the pulse. It went slower...

And slower...

And slower...

And yet, even slower...

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"N-no. No. No, no, no, no. NO!"

His fingers were running through her face and caught her nose. He should've had her breath between his fingers, but felt nothing. Then, he pressed his ear on her chest to feel her heartbeat. He still felt nothing. He covered his mouth to prevent him letting out a gasp.

_You break your promise._

Jean went down on the floor while holding on to the side of the bed. Warm tears were streaming down from his cheeks. After losing Marco, Sasha Braus left him away from his life... permanently.

* * *

.o.

A car was parked not far from the graveyard.

Between the tombstones, a man was stood. He crouched down to put flowers, the letter that he just wrote, and a book with brown leather cover in it near a tomb. The stone was there since more than a year ago, but it looked fresh. It engraved with beautiful letters, written as the following:

_**Sasha Braus-Kirchstein. Loving daughter, wife, and friend.**_

Underneath her name were her birthdate and the date when she died. He brushed his hand against the tomb; the hard but smooth surface of the stone gave him chills on his spine. It was a cold night after all, he said to himself while wrapping himself up with his coat.

_Cold. Just like how her body was felt when she died._

The feeling reminded him about the last time he visited Marco's grave. Ah, how was it? He got back from the bar and as soon as he reached the graveyard, he bawled. He crawled over to Marco's tombstone—despite being drunk, he was able to locate where it was. Even though no one was there, he kept going on and on about how he fucked his life up, how Sasha had been staying on bed in the verge of death, and how it often pressured him until he had breakdowns and insomnias.

Nevertheless, he already let it go. He may have lost his spouse and best friend, but he didn't want to sink in his own grief even longer. He repeatedly chanting the sentence that was written at the first page of the leather covered notebook.

'_Don't give up on everything._'

No, I don't, his mind told him.

When he returned to his car, the smell of pine tickled his nose through the air con. He gazed at dark night sky—this time, the stars finally came out. A sad love song played through the radio, but he didn't recall the singer. The tune was shattering the pieces of his heart, it nearly tore him apart.

"_He stopped loving her today..._"

He started the car and the vehicle's engine whirred. He was about to steer his way out, but...

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_I want to keep my promise._

He stepped on the gas and fastened the car's speed. He drove it toward what was in front him, as he accelerated. His body was sent forward; he didn't even put on his seatbelt. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the fear which tried to stop him.

_Hang on, Kirschtein._

There was a gate ahead of him, which led him to a cliff. Waves of the sea were waiting to engulf anyone who dropped from there, along with sharp rocks which could crush anything that collide it. He knew that it was dangerous for him to not hit the break immediately. He would crash himself as death awaited him.

_On the count of three._

He let out a shriek as his right feet didn't move from its position.

_One__._

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_Two._

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_Three__._

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It was all too late. The car fell down and hit the rocks. Jean Kirschtein was lonely no more.

**fin.**

* * *

**A/N**: And that is the end to this story.

Anyway, I planned to do a three story bonus involving the wedding, the book, and the letter, but I'll have to put aside for the next couple of weeks... or months, due to my current project, **_Zodiac_**. I won't publish it here; instead it will be on my writing blog, 104th . co . vu. The prompt offer is still available, though. If you're lucky, you can send it immediately through the askbox!

Special thanks to **Yocan** and **#JokoSashAngst** hashtag for giving me this idea! And sorry if there's any mistakes...

Forgive me for the lack of updates.


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